


Prank War 2

by sjofn



Series: The Prank War [2]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-03
Updated: 2011-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjofn/pseuds/sjofn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Practical jokes often go horrible wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prank War 2

**Author's Note:**

>   Thank You [](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/profile)[**onychophoran**](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/)  for the beta reading! You're awesome =D

_  
**Prank War 2**   
_

**Title:** Prank War 2  
 **Author(s):** sjofn0nott  
 **Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Nathan/Charles  
 **Summary:** Practical jokes often go horrible wrong.  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Warning(s):** none  
 **Word Count:** 575ish  
 **Disclaimer:** I own NOTHING! I will NEVER make any money from this!  
Author's Note:  Thank You [](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/profile)[**onychophoran**](http://onychophoran.livejournal.com/)   for the beta reading! You're awesome =D

　

 

Nathan drew the line at receiving a black eye from a paintball meant for Toki.

He had found the thing with the balloons fucking hilarious, he’d laughed as soon as he’d opened his own door. Skwisgaar’s bucket of blood had been unoriginal, but Murderface getting creamed in the head had been pretty funny, even though the guy had ended up with a concussion. Pickles suffering from poison ivy had been much less entertaining, he’d whined miserably all week.

 

His whole head fucking hurt. The ice pack was helping, but every movement sent a fresh jolt of pain through the left side of his face. Toki had started this whole chain of events. The kid was going to have to pay. Turning his head to look across the room brought an involuntary hiss of pain to his lips.

 

Charles looked up at the small noise and met his gaze. "Are you alright over there Nathan?" he asked sounding mildly concerned.

 

 

"Fine." It wasn’t the first time he’d been hit in the face, though it was the first time with a paintball. He had been on the far end of the room, and had been hit just below the eye. It didn’t seem like anything was actually broken, but half of his face hurt like hell. Charles had suggested the doctor, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that bad. If, in a couple of hours, he still couldn’t open his eye, he would give in.

 

He must not have sounded very convincing because his manager got up from behind his desk and crossed the room to stand next to the couch. "Let me see." He commanded as he reached out to lightly touch the back of the hand holding the compress against his face.

 

He winced as he lowered the ice pack. He tried to open his eye again and was rewarded with a very blurry image of Ofdensen. He closed his right eye to gauge the amount of vision he had in the left. His manager tilted the singer’s face up with a gentle hand as he examined the bruising with a critical expression.

 

"I meant what I said before, if you need anything from me in order to get the little bastard back, let me know. The black eye is going to be dreadful."

 

Nathan’s heart had started pounding in his chest the moment Ofdensen had touched the back of his hand. He could hear his own pulse rushing in his ears. His good eye remained closed, but he could see the unusually soft expression on his manager’s face as the other man continued to look at him. It was insanity to be affected so strongly by a simple touch. He wondered how long he could continue to pointedly ignore moments like this one.

 

Not much longer if he didn’t get the fuck out of this office, RIGHT NOW.

 

"You, uh, wanna help?" He growled as he pushed himself up off the sofa and started moving towards the door in a fluid motion. He had to get some space between the two of them, before he did something he would regret.

 

"Yes."

 

"Then don’t question any of my weird purchases this week. And call a meeting in the small board room for day after tomorrow at 2pm." He said as he reached the door.

 

"I‘ll take care of it." his manager replied.

 

Nathan nodded a goodbye, made his escape ice pack in hand, and headed downstairs to talk to the engineers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

　

 

  



End file.
